


Apocrypha

by Medie



Category: Terminator, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherever he fits in the story, he hasn't figured it out. He just knows where he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apocrypha

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://xphoenixrising.livejournal.com/profile)[**xphoenixrising**](http://xphoenixrising.livejournal.com/) for my Birthday Drabble-A-Thon.

She patches him up after a fight. It's just another one, they blur together now, and a close one like always. Derek's lost count of how many 'almosts' he's had. Lost count of how many they've pulled him out of. This time, it was John improvising an EMP and wiping out the advancing Terminators with Kate patching them back together.

He watches her bandage his arm, nimble fingers twisting and tucking the faded cloth into place. She looks up from her work, eyes smiling at him through wispy red curls.

There's not much beautiful left in the world and he thinks Kate Brewster-Connor's pretty much the last of it. She grins, sitting back on her heels. She's surrounded by skeletons, wrecked metal, and she's covered in mud, blood, and stuff he doesn't want to put a name to, and she's still radiant.

He hates John a little bit, knowing he lies down next to Kate almost every night.

On the nights they get to sleep, anyway. Fucking machines. They never stop. Never sleep. Never give you a moment of fucking peace.

His thoughts must show on his face as Kate laughs. "You know, Reese, it wouldn't kill you to smile."

Derek grips his gun tighter, wondering how the hell he can still blush. He thought Skynet wiped out anything that'd be capable of producing that years ago. Maybe his body just hasn't gotten the message yet. "You don't know that," he says.

"Sure I do," she says easily, tilting her head back toward John. "Try getting _him_ to crack a smile."

"I bet you can do it easy," says Derek.

Packing her gear up, Kate shoulders the pack. "Oh really?" she asks. "What makes you think that?"

He gets up, flexing his arm to test the bandage. He's suddenly shy, talking to her. No, not suddenly. When it comes talking to Kate, he thinks taking on a Terminator might be easier.

Derek shrugs, ignoring the stitches that pull in his shoulder. A remnant from last night's little adventure. "You're you."

Kate nods. "So I've been told."

He tries to smile. "Yeah, well, you can pretty much do anything that you put your mind to. Even make John Connor smile."

With a laugh, Kate touches his uninjured arm. "Thank you."

He watches her walk back to John's side, where the husband and wife, leaders both, share a brief, intimate smile. Then John turns back to the people surrounding him, raising his voice as he gives a speech.

Yeah, he kind of hates John Connor sometimes.

-

It's close quarters in the tunnels. Privacy died on Judgment Day with everything else. There's dozens of people packed into their shelter with every nook and cranny filled up by someone. It's almost impossible to find a moment's privacy.

People learn to overlook a lot. Keep your eyes and ears open, but miss what you need to miss. Nobody's immune to it; not even John and Kate.

Derek wakes up in the night to soft noises: rustling fabric, a moan, maybe two. He lays on his back, staring at the concrete overheard. It's near dawn, probably. He's got the morning watch and he knows he should move, but he recognizes that voice.

Derek would recognize Kate anywhere. He turns his head, slow and relaxed. Even so, he hears them freeze, and knows. If he opened his eyes right now, he'd find John watching him. Sharp-eyed as ever. Connor doesn't miss much.

He counts off the seconds. At the ten-count, Kate laughs and says something. It's too quiet to understand, but then she moans. It's muffled, probably by John's mouth, and Derek grits his teeth.

For a moment, he pictures what Kate looks like, then he buries the thought. The first chance he gets, he flees to the surface, pulling a double-watch.

-

Kate's there when he goes back. She stands by John's side, watching the readings and watching them. He sees the worry in her eyes and tries to smile. She musters up a response, but worry still leaks around the edges of it.

It's warming, the thought that she's worried about him. He tries to ignore it, but fails. His eyes lock on that smile as John starts the machine. That smile is the last thing he sees and he takes the memory of it with him.

That's the one downside to this gig. He may never see it again.

-

When he materializes on the other side of time, naked in a Los Angeles street with decades and an apocalypse between them, he wonders. Is that part of why he's here? Did John send him back here to keep him away from Kate?

He shakes the thought off. It's stupid. Connor's got more important things to worry about.

Besides, it's not like he ever stood a chance.

"C'mon," says Derek, looking at the others. "Can't stand around bare-assed all night." He smirks. "Might scare the neighbors."

-

When he sees John, just a kid, with no sign of the man Derek remembers, it's a blow. _Kyle_. It takes a while for everything to fall into place, but when it does, it hits him harder than that first moment.

The picture, John's stories about Sarah, it all becomes so clear. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _FUCK_.

He wants to punch something. Preferably John. Not the wispy-eyed, aw shucks, scary-naive kid in front of him, but the scarred, cold as fuck general who brainwashed his own father into loving Sarah Connor.

Son of a...

He doesn't finish the thought, can't with Sarah Connor looking him in the eye. He's pretty sure, he even thinks of calling her a bitch and he'll still be looking for his teeth on Judgment Day.

"Got a problem, Reese?"

Her question is sharp, like everything else. She still doesn't trust him. He doesn't blame her. Most days, he's not sure he trusts himself.

"Who doesn't?"

-

He runs again. This time to the mall. Same one where they used to scam food. That's where he sees her. She's younger, innocent, surrounded by laughing girls. She says something and he knows that sly smirk. He's seen her use it on John, teasing him when everyone else falls at his feet. The one person left alive who doesn't look at him like a god.

She's a college student, maybe, with no idea what's coming. He takes two steps toward her before he realizes that he can't. This Kate doesn't know him. Hasn't patched him up yet. Hasn't laughed at him, talked with him, mourned friends with him. This Kate would think he was insane.

Still, this Kate is John's Kate. Always John's Kate. It figures. His brother got the 'Holy Mother' and now The Messiah has Mary Magdalene. He can't move. It's not fair that he can't touch her.

He almost laughs. Fair. Who the fuck gives a damn about fair? Wherever he fits in the story, he hasn't figured it out. He just knows where he doesn't.

With one last look, Derek disappears into the crowd.


End file.
